To Brooke: You are an inspiration.

I have been sitting here staring at the screen for about an hour now. That’s not including the hour this morning, or the half an hour yesterday, or the 20 minutes before dawn last week, or the bits and pieces of time over the last few months. I get started, and then change my mind, erase it all, and go back to staring at the screen. Its hard, what I want to write. I mean, I know what I want to say, its all up here in my head, but its jumbled, and fragmented. Some of it isn’t even words. Just feelings and whispers.

Now, I don’t claim under any circumstances at all to be a wordsmith. I write the way I talk, if that makes sense. I write on this blog exactly as if I was talking to my friend on the phone. I don’t know any other way. And it’s a little harder now, knowing that these won’t be private words, between my friend and I, but for all of you to hear as well, because I think this story needs to be told, and in turn, shared. Because I need your help. So here goes…..

Do you have a friend who you’ve known since forever? One you feel comfortable with, and who knows your heart and your soul? And even in periods of quiet, or of distance, you can always come back to that friendship? because you know their heart, and their soul? I have been blessed in this life to have 2 such friends.

Back in July last year, one of these friends, Brooke, was overdue with her 2nd baby. She was booked in for an induction and all day I waited excitedly for the call. A boy or a girl?! She had had a terrible labour experience with her son, one you wouldn’t wish upon anyone, so all day I tried to push away my anxiety and send as many good and positives thoughts down The Pacific Highway to Sydney as I could. When day turned into night, I started to get a little concerned. Phone calls were made, only to go straight to message bank. My good, positive thoughts were being replaced by the beginnings of panic. When night turned into morning, and still nothing, I was at a loss. I rang the hospital, but of course, not being family, they could tell me nothing. No one could tell any of us anything. I admit to assuming the worst. I thought I had lost my friend. How selfish of me to never even consider her sweet baby. Finally, I got a call form another close friend. I can barely remember how that conversation went, or what was said.

Charlotte Pamela Welch was born with Vein of Galen aneurysmal malformations (VGAM). I had never heard of it. Over the next day or so, I tried to find out as much about it as possible, to explain as best I could to friends whom I had to tell. And to myself. Even saying the words now, it still makes no sense to me. Not just the syndrome itself, but any of it. Its a swelling of a vein in the brain and it isn’t detectable until after about 21 weeks. Brooke’s 20 week scan was normal. She was healthy and happy and so was the remainder of her pregnancy, so there was never any need to have another scan. In hindsight, I think this was probably for the best. I think of how hard it would have been for her and Greg and her family if they had of known, and to be placed in an impossible situation, facing an even more impossible decision. How would she have continued with her pregnancy knowing her baby would never survive. But how could she consider termination? No, I think in an unthinkable double edged sword, this was best. If I can say any of this is best. Of course I can’t.

Baby Charlotte was born on Monday 25th July 2011 and passed away 19 hours later on Tuesday 26th July 2011 in her Daddies arms. She died of Cardiac Failure due to Vein of Galen Malformation. This is a extremely rare condition and Brooke was told that only 1 in 10,000 can be affected by this complication.

She was less than a day old.

But for someone who was here for such a short time, she has certainly touched and changed countless lives.

The next few days, it was like there was a constant ringing in my ears. I would be driving, and I would have to pull over. I would stand at the kitchen bench and before I knew it, I would have been standing there for an hour. I would be talking to someone then all of a sudden they would say ‘are you listening to a word I’m saying?!”An overwhelming feeling of guilt took over my whole body, because I couldn’t mourn for Charlotte. I was mourning my Friend. Don’t get me wrong, Charlotte took over my every thought, but I kept coming back to Brooke. I was lost! I would speak to her on the phone, and hang up and not remember what either of us had said. She did not want me to visit. She didn’t want to see anyone. But all I wanted to do was jump on a plane.

The following week, I was at a workshop in Southern Highlands in NSW, surrounded by beauty and wonderful people. But I couldn’t concentrate. I couldn’t be happy or myslef. My heart was so heavy that I felt like there was a black stone in my chest. It hurt my lungs to breathe. I was so close to Sydney. I needed to see my friend. My dad came and picked me up and drove me to Brooke’s house.

To be able to hold her was wonderful. But I sat in her house and I could literally see her heart breaking. There was so much pain in her eyes. ‘What am I supposed to do?’ she kept asking me. ‘I don’t know what to do’. I told her that all she needed to do was to tell her body to keep breathing in and out. We’d deal with the rest later. And that’s what she did.

I struggled at first to know what were the best things to say to her. How could I possibly know what she was going through? I was watching so many people around her avoiding it, not meeting her eyes, shutting down all together. I thought, if it were me in that situation, I would detest that so I tried as best as I could to do the opposite. I was completely honest all the time. I stayed in contact as much as she would let me. I told her I loved her as often as I could. But I still second guessed myself everyday. I was lucky enough in those first few months to cross paths with 2 women, both who had lost children. One, a newborn twin, the other an older child. I was able to listen to them tell their heart breaking stories and it was almost like I could see into Brooke’s future a little bit. I could see that everything she was doing was right. That my support was what she needed most. I learnt so much from them about how to deal with what Brooke was going through. What to do , what not to do. I truly believe with all my heart we are not floating around this earth, bumping into random people. I believe those women crossed my path for a reason, and for that I will be forever grateful to them.

Brooke has been amazing, to say the least. She has faced a darkness no one should ever have to face, and she is surviving, with her wonderful husband, who is also grieving, right beside her, never letting go of her hand. She is surrounded by an amazing family, her mum and dad in particular, who have been supportive and, I think, instrumental in her recovery. I say recovery loosely, as I don’t think anyone can recover from such a loss, but I truly hope the dark days will spread themselves out. I have watched her take this heartbreak and embrace it rather than letting it define her. She will argue that she didn’t have a choice, but I disagree. Many people, understandably, would let the darkness consume them. And could you blame them? I’m not sure I could be as strong as Brooke has been.

I have looked into the depths of darkness in Brooke’s heart and eyes, but never once did I not see a glimmer of light. Not once. However dim it was, it was always there. I have stood beside her as best I could, and watched in utter amazement as she’s got out of bed every morning, loved her son with all her heart and soul, stood beside Greg as they’ve battled this nightmare together. There have been bad days. Awful days. Most I will never know about. But she still got out of bed every morning, when it would have been far easier to pull the covers over her head. She put one foot in front of the other, and she has refused to let her darkness put out her light.

She started swimming, which surprised me, as she was never really into it. It was a way for her to keep herself busy, to escape the quiet parts of her mind, and to think. She then surprised me even more by telling me she was thinking of doing her bronze medallion. She would have to swim 400 metres in 9 minutes, she told me. ‘I will never, ever, be able to do it’, she said. After everything she had been through! She was doubting herself?!! She swam and swam and swam in preparation. She loved it so much she signed up to an ocean swim. My friend! Who 5 months earlier was lying in a hospital bed mourning the death of her daughter. Who had never swam a big distance in her life! Wanted to do an ocean swim. And guess what? She bloody well did! She finished and ran up the sand to the finish line while her whole amazing, supportive family cheered in the crowd! And she didn’t even come last!!! Since then she’s swam 2km at Newport, 1.5km at Avalon, The Warriwood to Mona Vale 1.6km just today and next Sunday will compete in ‘The Big Swim’ Palm Beach to Whaley.

The midwife who looked after Brooke, has since become a mentor and friend to her. It is her who started Brooke swimming and planted the seed about her Bronze Medallion and becoming involved in Surf Lifesaving, as she herself is, and I am very grateful to her for all she has done for Brooke. I think its really amazing that in all the chaos that goes on in hospitals these days, that someone could become so wonderfully personally involved. How many of you can say you remained in contact with your midwife, regardless of the circumstances.

Which brings me to the whole reason behind this post. My beautiful friend Brooke, is competing in The Cole Classic, which is Australia’s Largest Ocean Swim, held on The Northern Beaches in Sydney, my home town. Just 6 months after losing her Baby Charlotte. She’s doing it to raise awareness for Bears of Hope, a charity dedicated to Pregnancy and infant Loss Support.

Her link is here. If you would like to donate, please do. I know it would mean a lot to her and her family.

But more importantly, please share this post with as many people as you can. And tell those people to share it too. I think Bears of Hope, along with Heartfelt , are 2 fairly unknown charities that need more support, and if you can help me to do that, for my Friend, then I think that is an amazing thing.

Thank you so much for reading this. I know its been really long, but I think Brooke, Greg and Jacks story needs to be told.

If you feel like leaving her a comment here, I know she would love the support.

And to Brooke: You are an inspiration. An amazing, astonishing, extraordinary woman. Every. Single. Day, I am flabbergasted by you. You have a long road ahead, but you have laid strong foundations for your life and happiness. And I will be right beside you the whole journey.

“…..and whether or not it is clear to you, no doubt the universe is unfolding as it should. Therefore, be at peace with God, whomever you conceive her to be, and whatever your labours and aspirations, in the noisy confusion of life keep peace with your soul. With all its sham, drudgery and broken dreams, it is still a beautiful world…..

….Strive to be Happy”

from Desiderata,
Max Ehrmann, 1927